The Making of a Commander
by CombineGLaDOS
Summary: By the time Shepard was known to the galaxy, she was already a high-achieving Lieutenant Commander, but her past is anything but the picture of an easy life. Series of oneshots set before the trilogy. Rated T for language and mature themes, although rating may change at a later date. Please review if you read.
1. The Birth and an Unexpected Surprise

**A/N: Hey there! This is a little (read: not 'little' in any definition of the word) side project I've come up with for when I have writers block. This story is essentially one shots (maybe two shots) that make up moments in my Commander Shepard's life. I have no idea how long this will end up being, and some of these chapters won't follow chronologically until run out of ideas and sort them properly, but alas this is something I've wanted to do for a while and I hope you all enjoy it :)**

* * *

-The Birth and an Unexpected Surprise-

Hannah Shepard lay back comfortably on the operating table. She knew that had it not been for the local anaesthetic, she would be in a tremendous amount of pain right now, but this decision was made nearly two weeks ago after a full consultation with her doctor and her husband, Terry.

Hannah remembered the concern that shot through her when she was told that her unborn son was in breach position with the umbilical cord around his neck. She was informed that the coil wasn't tight enough to warrant an emergency caesarean section, as there was every possibility that the baby boy would move into birth position and uncoil the cord himself, but due to the chance that he could remain as he was, the option for a caesarean was open.

Now, Hannah and Terry were awaiting the birth of their baby through a caesarean section, as it turned out he hadn't move much at all, with more excitement than they ever thought they could feel. Any moment now, a new person would be brought into this world, kicking and screaming, with a whole life ahead of them.

"Can you feel anything?" Terry asked his wife, stroking her forehead to keep her calm while he looked far from it himself, being incredibly pale and looking as though he would keel over any second.

"I can't feel a thing, honey," She smiled at him, giving him the best reassuring look she could muster under the current circumstances. Being an Alliance Operations Chief, Hannah had been under her fair share of pressure and had been in enough situations where someone was stressed out to know how to calm them down. That experience came in rather handy in this circumstance.

"Just checking," he returned the smile that Hannah had previously given him before looking to his left to see how the operation was coming along, quickly regretting his decision when he saw the amount of blood. Terry was not in the Alliance, being a simple office worker instead, and he hoped that the birth of their son would be enough to encourage his wife to leave the navy for good, not trusting any of the reports that 'Protheans' were actually extinct and that humans were the only intelligent life in the galaxy.

He didn't want his wife returning to active duty in a year or so' time, only for the reports to be wrong and have her being killed by an alien and leaving him to care for his son alone. Even if she wasn't killed in action, Hannah would still be out of the picture for a potentially great part of her sons' life, missing out important moments and milestones that will never occur again, and essentially making Terry a single father.

"We can see the child, Mr and Mrs Shepard. Should be ready to meet you any minute now," one of the surgeons said, hands deep inside the latter, likely trying to uncoil the umbilical cord and get a supportive hold on the baby so he can be removed and presented to his already loving parents.

Any minute now, Lewis Shepard would be here and the lives of his parents would be changed forever with the birth of their first child. It was an anticipated, yet dreaded moment; a baby causes a lot of change, and while it is often said no one experiences true love until the birth of their child, some people cannot handle the responsibility. Couples who have been together and planned for years are sometimes unable to handle the stress a new-born provides, and the relationship cannot continue any longer. The Shepard's hoped that wouldn't be the case for them.

Suddenly, a screeching sound filled the room, tiny lungs filling with air for the first time after being exposed to a world outside of the mothers' womb. The Shepard's couldn't see much, just a head of black hair that would soon fall out, covered with blood and bits of placenta. They had never felt such a sense of love in their lives before this moment.

The umbilical cord was cut by one of the surgeons, as it had already been decided that Terry was far too squeamish to want to do so himself, and the baby was quickly taken to the other side of the room to be weighed, measured and cleaned up a little bit before being handed over to the new mommy and daddy.

"Congratulations, you have a beautiful baby girl," one of the nurses in charge of checking the baby's measurements said, clearly smiling underneath her sterile mask.

The sex was a shock to Terry and Hannah. They had been informed 4 months ago that the baby was a boy, and had decorated the nursery accordingly with light blue paint and dinosaur motifs', something that had always interested Terry when he was younger. They had even picked out the aforementioned name of Lewis. Knowing now that they had been misinformed and that the child was actually a girl, rapid changes were in order.

A nurse placed the baby girl, now wrapped in a small white towel and considerably cleaner, into her mother's arms. She was soundly asleep already, and Hannah couldn't help but smile at the knowledge that this baby was inevitably going to become a heavy sleeper when she was older.

Tears were rolling down Hannah and Terry's faces, unable to believe how beautiful a child they had created was, and the latter tentatively reached out to stroke his daughters' forehead, noting how her skin was so soft and smooth, evidence that she was only a few minutes old.

"Do you have a name for her?" One of the surgeons asked while his colleague sutured the incision in Hannah's abdomen after previously having removed the placenta.

The couple looked at each other, suddenly very aware that they had failed to pick out a girl's name as the subject of names hadn't arose until they had been told that it would be a boy, prompting Hannah to say, "no, we chose the name Lewis, but it doesn't seem right for a girl."

"How about Hayley?" Terry offered as he continued grinning, half because of his new daughter and half because of the pride he currently felt for his wife. The name belonged to his great-grandmother, who he had never met yet was always eager to hear about the stories detailing how kind natured she was.

"That's…" Hannah hesitated, looking at the sleeping girl as though she was mentally putting the name to her face and seeing if it fit right, "that's a wonderful name, Terry. I was thinking along the lines of Elizabeth or Cristina, but Hayley…that's just her."

Terry let out a small laugh, "Elizabeth and Cristina? I suppose they could be her middle names," Hannah nodded at the suggestion, looking more exhausted and happy that he had ever seen her before.

"It's perfect," the new mother said, feeling her heart swell when Hayley let out a small yawn, "Hayley Elizabeth Cristina Shepard. You're going to do such great things, I can already feel it."


	2. Scarred by Conflict

-Scarred by Conflict-

This was not expected.

Hayley had had a nightmare that caused her to wake in tears and had wanted to find her mother, who would inevitably hug her and make all the terrifying monsters that she had dreamt about go away, but instead she was sat, huddled in the bottom of the doorway while covering her ears and squeezing her eyes at tightly shut as she could.

"Do you realise how stupid you are being?" Yelled Hayley's father, although his voice was muffled to Hayley due to the fact the girl was pressing her hands as tightly to her head as possible, but the shouting had caused the three year old to open her eyes and observe the scene in front of her.

"Don't you realise how stupid _you_ are being?" was the reply from Hayley's mother, "people are dying, Terry, and you are telling me to stay here and do nothing!" the older redhead was furious with how her husband was acting and was standing as menacingly close to him as possible, allowing her to look intimidating despite the height difference.

Terry just paced back and forth, his anger threatening to spill out as he tried to think about what to do. He knew there must be some way to convince his wife to stay and not go to Shanxi, but trying to find it and put forward his argument forward in a way that Hannah would understand was nigh impossible. There was Hayley, and she may be a great bargaining point to win the older female Shepard over, but so far this war hadn't pulled in many casualties and Hannah would clearly push that fact forward to back up her argument.

"Look, Hannah," Terry kept his voice calm and collected, still oblivious to his daughter in the doorway, "I know that the number of casualties is low right now, but what if the Alliance aggravates those things? They could slaughter you!"

Hayley had now uncovered her ears. She didn't understand many of the words being said, but she could already tell when someone was panicked, which her father clearly was. Whatever 'casualties' and 'slaughter' meant, she had gathered that they couldn't be good.

"The aliens we're going after? They are as advanced as us, from what we can gather. Even if they get pissed off and try to take us down, our weapons should be more than enough to blow a hole in them and liberate Shanxi," Hannah spoke as though she was briefing the squad she would inevitably be taking to the human colonised world, already knowing roughly what awaited her. She did not entirely believe what she had said, but it was enough to supress the anxiety she was already feeling towards the war.

Her husband let out an irritated sigh. He was familiar with propaganda, knowing the Alliance used it regularly to recruit marines. Conveniently forgetting to mention the amount of people who die each year was a great way to get recruits; similarly, mentioning that the space flight of an alien race was similar to the humans but omitting the mention of any other technology was a fool-proof way to get people behind the war. His wife's belief that this would be easy was just a product of the facts that had been twisted and omitted by her employer.

"What if they're lying? What if more than 394 have been killed? What if it's in the thousands?" Terry kept his voice quiet, as he had never believed yelling solved anything following the initial outburst of anger, "these aliens could be as advanced as the Prothean's, but because we are so weak in comparison, they are doing us the kindness of sending out smaller, less outfitted troops so we aren't entirely annihilated before we put up a good fight."

Hannah was about to respond when a small pair of arms wrapped themselves around her legs with a shocking amount of force for how tiny they were.

"No!" Hayley's tear stained face was pressed into the back of Hannah's calf, the young girl refusing to alleviate her grip. While she hadn't understood many of the longer words, she was fully aware of 'killed' meant, and the idea of her mother being stolen away from her had destroyed the three year old, "don't go, Mommy! I don't want you to die!"

Both of Hayley's parents were unsure what to do. They had definitely not noticed her before and were unaware that she had witnessed much of the argument. They were heartbroken to see her small form trembling as she cried while whimpering 'don't go' over and over.

"What about her?" Terry asked quietly as Hannah slowly turned around to pick up her daughter and wipe her eyes (and her nose, she noted with a hint of disgust) with her sleeve.

Hannah shook her head before turning to leave the room and take Hayley back to bed, feeling awful that the young girl had had to witness her parents arguing, something they had always avoided due to Hannah knowing how emotionally scaring it could be to see the people who made you in conflict with one another. She mouthed an apology as she left.

* * *

Hannah stroked Hayley's red hair behind her ear, smiling at her as the final sobs escaped her. She knew she should stay for her, but she had been in worse conflicts than the one she was preparing to go into, even after Hayley had been born (although most of those had been 'we were in the neighbourhood' conflicts). If she had survived those, she could survive this.

"Are you going?" Hayley asked, her eyes as red as her hair due to the amount of tears she had shed.

"I'm coming back," her mother said softly, the caring smile only a mother could pull off still on her face, "I promise."

The girls face scrunched up again as she processed what her mother had said, relating it to her father's words about people being killed. Hayley knew that if someone was killed, you could never see them again and the thought of never seeing her mother again was too much for the toddler to bear, "but Daddy said-"

"Hey," Hannah shushed her daughter, "Daddy is just scared. I'll be okay, and when I come back we can go to the park and play on the swings together, and I'll buy you all the ice cream and toys you want and when we come back here, we can play with all your new dollies _all_ night."

Hayley grinned in approval, loving nothing more than playing with her toys alongside her mother. Also, all the ice cream she wanted? Now there was a fun point that the child couldn't wait to get to when her mother was back.

"How long will you be?" she asked, all the former sorrow replaced by joy at what she had been promised.

Hannah didn't know how to answer that question. She would be back, but she didn't know how long she would be. In the end, she could only answer with "soon," although her daughter seemed to accept the answer with ease, probably not yet old enough to realise that that word could mean anything from days to years. The day she had that epiphany would be the very day she would grow to hate that word.

Eventually, Hayley was off to sleep again, no longer worried by her nightmares or the prospect of her mother leaving yet never coming back. Her mother had never broken a promise before, and there was no reason that three year old had to believe she would break one now.

As Hannah left, she found Terry standing outside Hayley's room, his look asking the question that Hannah had hoped he would already have assumed the answer to.

"I'm sorry," she said, solemnly, "I'm going."


	3. Broken Promises

**A/N: In case it isn't already obvious from the title of this chapter and things said in the previous one, this chapter involves the death of a parent. If you are sensitive to such issues, feel free to skip this chapter.**

-Broken Promises-

Hayley squirmed on the sofa. She had regularly been going to day care since her mother left for the First Contact War 3 months ago, her father not entirely ready to do the single parent thing on his own.

She didn't really like it there. The other children were mean to her, the boys happily punching her while the girls called her ugly. No one ever played with her because she was always more interested in pretending the dollies were astronauts than actually playing happy families, which the girls found unappealing and the boys found weird. When her father came to pick her up early, she was overjoyed.

Terry had said very little to his daughter on the car ride back though, and Hayley had quickly gathered that, for whatever reason, she wasn't meant to be happy that she had been picked up early. Something had happened and her father was taking her home to tell her.

Her brain ran through the possibilities: No more ice cream, her room had been painted pink, Admil Tom (Hayley was unable to pronounce Admiral) had returned from his mission to her toy chest missing an arm. For a brief second, her mother came to mind, but then she remembered that she had promised she would come back and quickly cast the thought aside.

When they were home, Terry asked his daughter to sit down while he went to get some water and now he had returned and taken a seat beside her.

"Hayley…" he started, his voice catching on the little girl's name alone, "something happened. The fight your Mommy went to is over-"

"Is Mommy coming back?" Hayley quickly jumped up onto the cushions, speaking with so much glee that it almost completely shattered Terry's heart. If the fight was over, her mother would surely be coming back, and they would spend the day eating ice cream and playing in the park with dollies. Everything would be so much fun and Hayley's mother would never leave again.

"Please sit down," her father's voice was weak and quiet, so much so that she almost hadn't heard him speak, "Mommy got hurt when she was fighting the aliens."

Terry searched his daughter's face for any sign of distress and upset. She was only three, but he had full faith in her that she would understand what he was trying to say so that he wouldn't have to say his wife's true fate aloud, for both his and his daughter's sake.

"She can put a bandage on it. A pretty one with stars on it because they will look pretty on her!" The redhead said, not at all understanding what her father was getting at, much to his dismay.

He was trying to use a psychological buffer, knowing that it is easier to accept something if you don't hear the blunt version of what it is. He had learned it when he was taking a psychology degree, which he promptly dropped when he was no longer able to keep up with the workload. He had hoped he could apply the tactic here, but alas it was not to be.

"I'm sorry Hayley…your mommy was more hurt than that. She isn't coming back, sweetie," Terry began to cry as he finished the sentence, unable to look at Hayley who he guessed must have been distraught by her mother's fate.

At first, Hayley had resigned to calling her father a liar, convinced that he wasn't telling the truth and that any minute now, her mother would come walking through the door any moment now with everything she had told her she could have. She had promised to come back, she wouldn't have broken it.

It was near 10 minutes before the girl accepted that her mother was not returning, that she was hurt as bad as her father had said and that had therefore meant she was unable to return. That she had died.

"She promised me she would come back," Hayley half sobbed, half screamed, throwing her arms around her father and crying uncontrollably into his shirt.

He returned the hug, pulling her as close as possible while he tried to silence his own sorrow knowing that the sight of him crying would do nothing to calm his daughter down. He wanted his wife back, and wished she had listened to him, but resenting her now seemed foolish as she was gone and was never coming back.

Hours passed before either of the remaining members of the Shepard family pulled apart, Hayley wanting nothing more than to be close to her father now that she was never to see her mother again, and Terry wanting to hug the one person who his wife was survived by.

Hannah would be home in a couple days, alongside many of the other 623 humans that had been killed. A large ceremony would be held for all those who had died, but the families had the option to have their own, smaller, private funeral as well, meaning Terry had preparations to make. The distraction would be good, melancholy as it may be.

Hayley had taken herself to her room, suddenly uninterested in all the toys she had planned to play with when she got home. She just sat on her bed and stared at the floor for the rest of the evening, hoping that this was all a nightmare and that she would wake up any second now.

Unfortunately, it was not to be.

* * *

The Shepard's had already held their funeral for Hannah by the time the large memorial came around. They wanted it over with as soon as possible and now there was nothing to do other than mourn the many others who had been lost fighting the alien race who came through the relay.

The race was called the Turian's, but all Terry and Hayley saw them as were the freaks who killed their respective wife and mother. Sure, humans were now in amongst a range of aliens in a galactic society, but that did not mean that the abominations should be trusted.

The Turian's were on a council with two other species: one where individuals lived for a thousand years and another who were incredibly intelligent yet with much shorter lifespans. Terry was unsure of the names, but to him they were all the same; just freaks who attacked lesser species without remorse.

Terry was so caught up in his thinking that he hadn't noticed that Hayley had wandered from his side. He scanned the people around him, refusing to let panic set in, and quickly spotted the vibrant red hair next to a boy who appeared the same age as her, allowing himself to fully relax while he kept an eye on her.

Hayley recognised the boy she was talking to: Xander Jet. He was 3 years older than her yet attended the same day care and frequently pulled her hair and gave her Chinese burns on her arm –in fact her right arm was still slightly bruised from the last time- and generally just someone who hated her for acting less like a 'normal girl'.

Currently, Xander was crying his eyes out, one of his father's having been killed while the other was currently hospitalised, although no one expected him to pull through. Hayley assumed he was with his grandmother, a stern looking woman who was wearing Alliance dress blues, like many of the other people in attendance. She hadn't seemed to have noticed her grandson crying.

"Are you okay?"

"My daddy is dead, stupid!" He shouted, although the name he frequently called the young Shepard sounded half-hearted, as though he didn't have the energy to put any feeling behind the word. Understandable, giving the circumstances.

Hayley ignored her bully's name calling and hugged him, rubbing her hand along his back as her mother had always done when she was comforting her. She kept saying shush into his ear as she rested her head on his shoulder, "it will be okay."

Xander was unsure of how to react at first, but he eventually returned the hug, gripping on to the girl he had tormented so much with all he could, enjoying the contact from someone who understood how he felt.

Terry watched on as he saw his daughter overcome her dislike for the boy to give him comfort when he needed it. He hadn't expected her to understand empathy too well, and at the current event, he wasn't expecting much more than for her to be standing next to him, too distraught to do much else that stare into the distance.

All he could do was smile and say, to no one in particular, "I can see so much of her in you."

 **A/N: Thanks to my friend who looked up the number of fatalities in the First Contact War for me! My internet was gone while I was writing this so I couldn't check myself.**


	4. All Alone

**A/N: If you have ever read my fanfiction 'Family Reunion', this is an extended and slightly improved version of one of the scenes in that, thus the warning from the previous chapter still applies.**

-All Alone-

Terry glared at the news report. It was something about how great the Alliance was, ergo it was something he did not believe. If the military was so wonderful, how come his wife had been killed 6 months ago?

"Dammit, I miss you," he sighed, before forcing the remaining resentment towards Hannah's former employer from his mind and turning off the laptop. There were bigger things than the Alliance's constant stream of 'look how great we are' articles. For example, today he and his daughter were going shopping to buy her a belated birthday present, albeit only two days since the date.

He finished his coffee before he went to go wake Hayley, only to discover that she was already awake and reading through a book on the Sol system, made especially for young children who already had a vested interest in the galaxy.

"Are you ready to go to the toy-?"

"Wait," the small redhead said without looking, running her finger below the bold, white text that said that Jupiter was the 5th planet from the sun. When she finished she closed the book, looked at her father and said, "Ready!" as a wide grin spread across her face, revealing a wide gap where her two top incisors would grow in.

Terry couldn't help but chuckle when she ran past him, already dressed in preparation for the trip. He hadn't seen her this happy in 6 months, not since her mother passed, although the book on the Sol system and his attempt at painting stars on her bedroom wall had cheered her up considerably.

He would never mention it to her now, but if this obsession with their home system and the galaxy continued through until she was a teenager, he would have to intervene before she decides to join the Alliance, like her mother had. He wasn't losing her to their incompetence too.

Hayley was in the middle of putting her shoes on when her father came out and told her she needed to eat breakfast first, causing the girl to let out an overdramatic sigh while she still continued to smile as she stomped through to the kitchen.

It was amazing how well she was coping, with her now at a point where she could freely console Xander, who she had since befriended. Before, comforting him would often bring up memories of her mother and cause her to become upset, but now she was able to keep that thought out of her mind. Quite remarkable for a girl who had only just turned four.

Once she had finished eating, Hayley and her father made their way out to the car. It was still an on-the-ground, four wheel car, something that was becoming increasingly rare as people moved over to the skycars that the xeno-freaks had brought with them when they allowed humankind to live 'alongside' them, as opposed to beneath them.

Honestly, Terry never believed that they had allowed humans to be on the same level as them, still keeping them restricted for killing Turian's, while they were still allowed a seat on the high-and-mighty council. He couldn't pretend he fully understood politics, but he knew that the treatment of the two participants of the first contact war was complete bullshit.

"Are you belted up okay, honey?" Terry asked as he got into the car. Nowadays, he only ever helped her into the car, as trying to belt her in often led to her screaming in his face. She was rapidly becoming independent, but she still loved nothing more than time alone and days out with her father.

"Yes, Daddy," it was easy to lose count of how many times Hayley had smiled that day already, doing so again while she clapped her hands together in excitement, planning what toy she would buy and play with.

There was a cool, new rocket toy that had come out recently, and whenever Hayley saw it on the TV, she would get up and point up towards the screen, giving her father the most pleading look she could muster. She decided that she would try and find that as soon as they got to the store. After all, her father had promised her anything she had wanted.

"Okay, time to go," he said, starting the car and pulling out of the garage.

* * *

 _Should have gone earlier_ , Terry thought as he stared at the solid mile of traffic ahead of him. He would have accepted the traffic as bad luck, had it been Friday the 13th, but today was a Thursday the 13th. He had always been a little on the superstitious side.

"Are we there yet?"

"No," Terry sighed at his daughter's question, which she had asked 8 times already, knowing that she was still otherwise mesmerised by the sky cars that were zipping through the air 2 miles above them.

He didn't trust anything of alien design, and saw them as nothing more than death traps. He wasn't a physicist and didn't really understand how any of this stuff worked, and the thought of people putting so much faith into the accidents waiting to happen made him infuriated.

Basic cars were being phased out and he knew that by the time Hayley could learn to drive, she would be driving one of those and potentially end up being killed by one of those. The thought of anything happening to her made him sick to his stomach.

"I want one," the redhead said, pressing a fingertip to the window and pointing up at the cause of Terry's frustration. She had also fixed her face to the window too, her upper lip being pulled up slightly when she moved herself lower to get a better look at the colourful dots flashing by.

The way Hayley appeared made the woman in the next car over giggle, before she returned her attention to the road.

"Not until you're 50, Hayley," Terry said as though he was joking, which he wasn't. In fact, he'd rather she never even thought about having one again, but there was no need to ruin her day by scolding her over something he didn't approve of that she clearly wanted.

"You're mean," Hayley pulled her attention away from the sky cars and pouted, crossing her arms and giving her father a look of disgust which he didn't notice.

The next five minutes passed in silence. One that Terry couldn't help but feel was a sense of foreboding, and that something bad was about to happen. He didn't know why he had that feeling, but he was unable to shake it.

It all became clear when he saw a flash of orange and yellow come from one of the sky cars above. He saw scraps of twisted metal fly elsewhere as the engine of the vehicle combusted and it came hurtling towards his car.

Hayley was unable to register anything. She had heard a distant bang, followed by a whistling noise that grew ever louder and closer. The next thing she knew, black smoke was creeping into every crevice and shards of metal were flying left, right and centre, causing her to reflexively close her eyes. An incredible heat enveloped her small form, but the red and orange that accompanied it missed her by an inch and then it was over.

The smoke had cleared by the time she was able to open her eyes again, and her entire body was stinging, especially from her right eyebrow to her left cheek. Her arms were red and sore with a couple blisters, and while the burns were not bad and would likely leave no long lasting scars, Hayley couldn't help but scream at the sight.

"Daddy!" She wailed, trying to get her father's attention.

He was slumped over in the driver's seat, his head thrown back with his neck bent at an unnatural angle. Small shards of metal were sticking from him at random intervals, with a large one embedded in his abdomen. Blood was pouring freely from his mouth and the dozens of scratches and burns that had formed elsewhere. To make things worse, he was entirely unresponsive to his daughter.

"Daddy..?" Hayley's cries suddenly became quieter as she attempted to reach out to her father, "wake up!" she said with force, as she was about to make contact with his arm.

Outside the car, there were people shouting and screaming. Sirens could be heard growing closer and closer. Some people were howling in pain while others were bellowing for help, which would not come soon enough.

Just as Hayley touched her father's arm, someone reached in through the shattered window.

"Help! There's a girl in here!" It was a woman's voice, and her body became visible as she reached in so she could unbuckle the four year old, constantly trying to hush her while she became frantic and attempted to hit the woman who was trying to help.

"No! My daddy won't wake up," she cried, smacking the woman relentlessly, wanting nothing more for her to give up so she could continue in an attempt to wake up her father, "I need to wake him up!"

The buckle became undone, and the woman quickly moved the belt out of the way so that she could pull Hayley out of the car while doing as little damage as possible. However, she wasn't prepared when the small girl lurched forward in one final attempt to get to her father.

"Daddy!" Hayley squealed, breaking free of the woman's hold on her and grabbing her father's arm, only for the limb to be so slick with blood that her hand slipped away with ease when the woman returned in another attempt to remove the injured four year old.

This time, she was successful, but all hopes of not hurting the child left when the constant kicking and screaming led to the reddened skin being rubbed a bit too raw, causing more blisters that was too painful for Hayley to bear.

She was taken over to the first available ambulance, where paramedics tended to her wounds while they were on route to the hospital, placing cooling packs on Hayley's arms and bandaging the gash on her face that was bleeding profusely.

The entire time, all she could do was cry out for her last remaining parent.


	5. Passed Around

Passed Around

Hayley was sat in a waiting room, constantly shifting in her seat while she watched the people talking in the office she was currently outside. She couldn't hear them, and if she could she probably wouldn't understand much of the conversation, but it was interesting to watch nonetheless.

In the past year, Hayley had witnessed just over a dozen similar exchanges. Two people, sometimes a man and a woman, sometimes two of the same, would be having a clear in-depth discussion, before filling in a pile of paperwork. After that, the couple would take Hayley home with them and within a week to a month, they would be bringing her back so she can see two other people repeat the process.

She knew it was because of her nightmares, one of the foster mothers having accused her of faking them to get attention. The bad dreams were frequent and always involved a car accident. Her previous foster parents were also concerned at how often she would crash her toys into each other, and that whenever they offered to buy her a new toy after she broke the old ones, she began to scream and cry and was inconsolable for hours on end.

The office door opened and the couple who had just fostered Hayley walked out, thanking the social worker who smiled with a grin that had been practised several times. The five-year old had already grasped the ability to tell when someone was pretending to be happy, and she had easily picked up on the woman's feigned delight.

"Come on, Hayley, it's time to take you home." The man reached out with his hand, offering it to the girl, although she vigorously shook her head and refused to take it, leaving him looking disgusted.

"So she's a stubborn one…" the woman said with barely restrained irritation.

Hayley already knew that this family would be no better than the others, and expected nothing less than to be returned in a few weeks.

* * *

The car ride to the new house mostly quiet, as the first whimper of panic that Hayley had let out had led to her being reprimanded for attention seeking. She wasn't sure what that was, but the disgust in the woman's voice told her it wasn't a good thing.

Arriving at the house wasn't much better, as the five year old was immediately grounded lying, despite the fact she hadn't said a single word to the couple who were fostering her until she was officially adopted.

Her room was less than interesting, only containing a bed and dresser. The walls were painted a pastel pink, a colour that Hayley had come to hate, considering she loved blue and purple, and the carpet was a little worse for wear in more than one place. Normally, the foster parents would have put her ever shrinking collection of toys in her room, but this family had thrown them out before they even left the fostering agency.

She checked the wardrobe, and inside was a selection of dresses. Hayley had assumed that, had she been like girls at her kindergarten, she would have loved to this selection, but the reality was she detested dresses as much as she did the garish colour that her room had been painted. She would happily wear jeans and t-shirts any day over the garments that she had been provided with.

Time ticked by as Hayley sat on her bed. She didn't have any way to entertain herself, and what was only 3 hours felt like 3 days. When her foster father came to her room, he told her it was time for bed, leaving her feeling hungry as she was clearly not even allowed dinner thanks to being grounded.

She changed into the pyjamas that she had been provided, taking note of the butterfly that was printed on the top. The wings had a black edge with white dots decorating it, the remainder being a deep orange with the same black intersecting the wing, creating a pattern that even Hayley, for all her tom boy traits, couldn't help but think was incredibly pretty.

* * *

Sleep came easily to the child, although she couldn't have been out for more than an hour when the first nightmare about her father's occurred. She screamed and cried for the people who were fostering her to come, but within minutes she realised that wasn't going to happen.

Trembling from the dream, Hayley padded across her room and attempted to open the door, only for it to stay firmly closed. She had been locked in.

Once again, tears began to flow as she scratched at the door, wanting nothing more than to be out of the room and be embraced by someone whose duty was to care for her. She had repeatedly told herself that she would get a nice family one day, one that will keep her and love her despite the things she did that scared the others away, but as the year had gone by, she doubted it more and more.

The man who the people often took her to see would often say that she was maturing before her time and facing hardships that even adults dread to go through already. She didn't know what that meant, but feeling as though no one wanted her likely had something to do with it.

Eventually, she tired herself out, her small form being unable to keep up with the emotional distress. Before she slipped into a dreamless sleep, all Hayley could think of was how she wanted this to end. How she no longer wanted to be passed around.


End file.
